


hands over the ears of my heart

by jugheadjones



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, dont blame the player blame the game, fred is the daddest dad to ever dad, honestly read jarchie into this. do it, im posting EVERYTHGIN in my drafts before we find out who the killer is next week, mmmmm i love these parents, so sorry for the drastic drop in quality in my fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 11:30:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10763358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jugheadjones/pseuds/jugheadjones
Summary: I wrote most of this post episode seven and am only just posting it now, so it features Fred and Hermione pre-breakup. When some unidentified issue (see: my personal needs) forces Hermione to stay at the Andrews house for a night, she and Fred share the bed that used to be his and Mary's. Strictly platonically. There's no sex, but they talk a lot. About love and life and Archie (mostly Archie) and the people they used to be.





	hands over the ears of my heart

**Author's Note:**

> _“You are going to break your promise. I understand. And I hold my hands over the ears of my heart, so that I will not hate you.” - Catherynne M Valente, Deathless_
> 
> this is a rush job and you can tell but i love these kids and i hope its a good read. 
> 
> love to emily for always talking to me about fredsythemione

“I’ve got a favour to ask you, and I want to assure you I mean nothing sinister by it.” 

Fred raises an eyebrow, setting down his pen. Hermione hovers at the end of his desk, hands clasped in front of her, construction hat askew on her head.  “You’ve got my attention.” 

“Ronnie and I need a place to stay overnight. She’s sleeping over with Betty, but I-” She spreads her hands out, palms up. 

“Don’t want to spend a night with Alice Cooper.” 

“Do you blame me?” 

“No.” He searches her face, looking for the truth. “You need a place to sleep?”

“Strictly platonically.” She gives him a nervous smile, removing her hard hat to hold onto it with both hands. “Like I said, Ronnie’s staying with Betty, so it’s just me.” 

“Last I heard neither of you were very welcome in the Cooper household. What changed?” 

“Long story. But I’d still rather not have to ask Alice Cooper for a bed. Can I stay over, Fred?” 

“I’d have to ask Archie.” 

If the answer surprises her, she doesn’t show it. “I’ll crash on the couch, I won’t be a bother. You’ll let me know, right?” 

“Sure thing. I’ll talk to him when I get home.” 

Her eyes shine with praise. “Thank you! Thank you.” 

He watches her seat herself neatly at her desk, hair bouncing with her movement, a single dark strand of hair clinging to the side of her neck, and wonders what the hell he’s got himself into. 

* * *

Despite his qualms, Hermione makes a terrific houseguest. She’s a welcome presence at his dinner table, somehow coaxing a open-mouthed laugh out of Jughead, who hasn’t cracked a smile in a couple days. She leaps out of her seat to clear the table, and Jughead and Archie gratefully make themselves scarce before Fred can rope them into cleanup. It’s almost nice to wash dishes with another person, although they descend into an argument halfway through about who should get the master bed and who should take the couch. 

“You’re being ridiculous, Fred, I told you I’d take the couch -” 

“You’re not going to take the couch, you're my guest.” 

“I appreciate the chivalry, Fred, but I’m absolutely not putting you out of your bedroom.” 

“Hermione-!” He stops short when he sees Archie standing in the doorway. Expecting the boys to be out in the garage, he hadn’t been paying attention to his volume. Archie averts his gaze, and Fred feels his heart clutch. Hates that Archie’s just walked into an argument exactly like he and Mary used to have before she left. 

But Archie looks back up at him and his face is open and sure. “Hey, I-” He glances uncomfortably at Hermione, who quickly leaves to empty the dustpan in the garbage. “I don’t mind if you guys share a bed.” 

“Archie..” 

“I mean, if it’s not weird. I don’t know.” Archie inclines his shoulders, a barely-there shrug. “Jughead and I share a bed and it’s not weird. If … if you guys are just friends, right?” 

Hermione re-enters the room and he finds himself sharing the kind of silent communication with her he only used to be able to pull off with Mary. Their eyes meet. She blinks. He lifts his chin. She nods almost imperceptibly. He nods back. 

“I think we might. If you’re okay with it.” Fred says finally. “Very much as friends.” 

Archie nods, saying absolutely nothing, and yet Fred somehow hears him loud and clear. “Cool. Jug and I are going to the park.” 

“Have fun.”

Fred watches him go, wondering at what point Archie allowed the master bed to stop being Mary’s. Wonders when he did himself. If he has yet. 

* * *

Jughead and Archie come back around ten, as Fred’s putting new sheets on the master bed. He hugs them both goodnight, Archie hugging back with a bit more permissive gusto than necessary, Jughead thin and almost breakable in his arms. When he comes back, Hermione has the bed fully made. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Hermione stretches her arms up over her head. “What time do you turn in? I’m exhausted.” 

“Whenever you want. But me too.” He sits down on the bed to roll his socks off. “Long day.”

“One of many.”

As Fred gets up to close the door he notices Archie hovering in the doorframe of the room he shares with Jughead, eyes glinting in the semi-dark. Fred purposefully swings his door half-open and roots a doorstop in the crevice between the carpet and the door. He’s rewarded with a smile from Archie, who gives him a thankful nod and retreats back into his own room. Fred smiles to himself and moves back to the bed. 

“Can you sleep with the door open?”

Hermione shrugs, shimmying neatly out of her shoes and pantyhose. “I’m not picky. Is anyone?” 

“Jughead can’t. He needs it shut. Hey, hey-” He puts one hand up as Hermione moves to take off her shirt. “Bathroom down the hall.” 

Hermione’s smile is fond. “I’d tease you that you’ve already seen worse, but I know you’re setting boundaries for Archie’s sake. And I respect that.” She undoes her watch and tosses it at him. “Back in a flash.” 

He’s changed when she re-enters the room, makeup-free, dressed in expensive looking flannel PJs. He has a strange impulse to bury himself in her hair and smell it. 

“Fred, I can still sleep downstairs.” 

“No.” Now that they’re here he realizes he wants it badly, to sleep next to someone again. “Just no touching.” 

“No touching.” She crosses her heart, a memory of an impulse from when they were kids. “Or may lightning strike me dead.” 

He grins, amused. “A little drastic.” 

She’s standing at the end of the bed without moving, and he realizes she’s waiting for him to assign her a side. No doubt knowing that one of them used to be Mary’s. It shouldn’t matter, and yet it does. He avoids her gaze as he climbs into bed. She doesn’t know he’s been sleeping on Mary’s side since the divorce. 

She turns out the light. 

And then it’s dark, and they’re lying in bed together, the room quiet. 

“You know,” Hermione says softly, when they’ve both relaxed a bit, “when Veronica first came home and started telling me about Archie, I thought to myself, my god, another Lodge in love with an Andrews boy.” 

He grins. “You’d think you’d have learned better by now.” 

“Well, I could always tell her some horror stories, scare her out of it.” teases Hermione. “God knows, I have a few.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

She smiles, and he feels better all at once about everything. “So, Betty and Jughead?” 

“Apparently. I think Archie’s still a little shaken up about it.” 

“How so?” 

“Well, it’s always weird when your best friends start dating each other. We would know.” 

“Oh, god, would we ever.” 

“Can I ask you something personal?” 

“You’ve known me long enough, Fred, just say it.” 

“Do you still have feelings for FP?” 

“God, no.” She drags a long lock of hair out of her face. “That’s old, old history, Fred. Not at all.” 

“Okay. I figured.” 

She shakes her head an imperceptible amount against the pillow, mouth a straight, curious line. “Why would you ask that?” 

“Just making conversation.” 

“Fred.” 

“What?” 

“Do you?” 

“Do I what?” 

“Do you still have feelings? Is that why you asked?” 

“No.” His voice is firm but he still hears himself hesitate just a fraction too long. “That’s long over. He’s not the person we used to know.” 

“Neither are we.” 

“It’s not the same. Not with the way he treats Jughead. Not after everything. We grew apart for a reason. He hurt me, Hermione, you know that. And yeah, I think I’ll always have feelings for him, somehow. I can’t help that. But I have no interest in opening that can of worms again, not ever. And not when Jughead needs me. Not when both my boys need me. And those feelings I have, I’ve learned to live with them. They don’t keep me up nights.”  

“Then what does? 

Fred looks at her, wondering if she’s moved closer. Her eyes seem very close in the dark. “I have nightmares,” he admits quietly, not moving his gaze from those eyes. “About the body.” 

“What about it?” They’re talking so softly, like you would in a graveyard. 

Fred shuts his eyes. “About it being Archie’s.” 

Her hand finds his in the dark and squeezes. He holds it for a long time, feeling the weight of it, the solid warmth of her skin. He’s been alone in this bed for so long that the weight of another person is strange, yet unnervingly comfortable. 

“You see too much good in people, Fred.” 

He opens his eyes again. “What does that mean?” 

“I don’t know. But you do. Always have.” 

Silence settles between them as he tries to process this. Fred rubs her thumb in thoughtless circles. “Does that include you?” 

“It’s just a bad time right now, Fred.” 

“That’s… that’s fair.” 

She drops her hand and he misses it. “I almost lost Ronnie over you. That wasn’t worth it.” 

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s a long story, Fred. Just take my word for it.”

Fred exhales, a long sigh. “Archie needs someone too much right now. Someone who can be there for him all the time. I can’t do that if I’m with someone.” 

“What’s Valerie like?” 

“She’s a great girl. Really fun.” 

“Good.” Hermione brushes some hair out of her mouth, and he finds himself following the motion of her fingers. Door open, he reminds himself. Archie. “You know, when Veronica came home from school the first week, she thought Jughead and Archie might be…” 

“Jughead’s his best friend. Always has been.” He meets her arched eyebrow with a shrug. “I don’t know how much he takes after me.” 

“How is Jughead?” 

The smile slowly dies from his face. “I’m worried about him.” 

“Because of the investigation?” 

“Because of everything.” Fred sits up, punches the pillow into a more comfortable shape, and lays back down. “That kid’s been kicked down so many times he doesn’t know which way is up anymore.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

“I dunno.” Fred sighs. “Archie’s second grade parent-teacher conference, this guy pulls me aside and says Fred, your son has great potential. His reading comprehension is a little shaky, he needs to work on his attention span, but he’s a good kid and a hard worker. But he’s close friends with Jughead Jones. And if he stays close friends with him, he’s going to end up in trouble.”

“What did you say to that?” 

“If memory serves, I told him exactly how far I thought my foot could reach up his ass. But Jughead listens to those people, you know. I was talking to him about college the other day, and he says he doesn’t think he’s going. That he’s not good enough. You should see the things he writes, really good stuff. And he loves learning things, he soaks it all up like a sponge, he - And I know he has all this potential, but he doesn’t see it in himself, because people have always told him he’s from the wrong side of the tracks, he doesn’t have a future anywhere. Kids, adults, doesn’t matter. And it’s not fair to him.” 

Hermione’s eyes are swimming with tears, and he stops abruptly. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you-”

“No, it’s just - you're such a  _ good _ person.” 

“I’m really not -” He feels helpless. Hermione never used to cry. 

“No, I mean it. I’m trying to imagine Hiram saying something like this. And I can’t.” 

She wipes another tear away and he hugs her then, or she hugs him, and he can’t tell which only that he ends up with a hand smoothing through the back of her hair and it feels like they’re fifteen again, or younger. 

“Sorry.” She’s pushing back out of the embrace, her hair leaving a soft perfume in the air where she’d been. “Broke the no touching rule.” 

“It was more of a guideline.” She’s somehow managed to curb the flow of tears, but he still watches her anxiously. She smiles as if to dissuade him. 

“Hey, Fred?” 

“What?” 

“Maybe we’re just meant to be really, really good friends.” 

He smiles back at her. “Maybe.” 

They lay in silence for a long while then, Fred turning onto his back to stare at the ceiling, Hermione still on her side, one hand under her cheek. The window is open and moonlight makes long shapes on their ceiling. It feels oddly safe, like the two of them are adrift on a boat out at sea. And yet the unsafeness outside his house remains at the back of his mind like a cold knife, pressing a gap between himself and sleeping, holding the comfort at bay. 

Down the hall, Archie’s door is shut. 

“How’d I get such a great kid, Hermione?” 

He can almost hear her smile. “I ask myself the same thing. That baby shower was Veronica’s idea you know. Same with me taking Polly in.” 

“God, I love them.” 

“Sometimes I think we put pressure on our kids to grow into the people we couldn’t be.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is soft. “From what Polly tells me, Jason managed that. Being a better person than his parents.” 

“Guess it’s not doing him much good now.” 

“No.” 

Fred winces. “God, that poor girl. Imagine being alone in that house with them. After losing Jason.” 

“I know. God, I wish she’d stayed with me.” 

“Hell, I’d take Cheryl. She could have one of the rooms down the hall.”

“Cheryl?” 

“Who are you talking about?” 

“Polly. You didn’t know?” Hermione sits up a bit in bed, her long hair tumbling down over her shoulder. “She left. Went to Thornhill.” 

“What?!” 

“God, I know. I know! But what could I do? It was her choice.”

“She’s living with Cliff Blossom?” 

“And Penelope. Both of them.” She nods. “Yeah. Alice isn’t happy.” 

“God.” Fred sinks back down onto the sheets. “Why would she do that?” 

“That’s not for me to say.” 

“Wow.” 

“I should have told you before.”

“There are a lot of things that fall into that category, Hermione.” 

“We Lodges keep secrets.” Her hands are cool on his cheek. He smiles into the touch, but gently takes her by the wrist and moves her hand down. 

“No touching rule.” 

“I’m sorry.” She smiles sadly into the dark. “I feel like no one’s touched you in a long time, Freddy.” 

“You might be right.” 

The warmth of the bed is beginning to drag him into sleep, and he shuts his eyes against the pillow. This time the room goes so quiet for so long that he thinks she’s fallen asleep first. But he hears her voice again, as though from far away. 

“I think small towns are scarier than cities.” 

He keeps his eyes shut, mouth clumsy with sleep as he replies. “Hows that?” 

“In the city you know there’s bad people. In towns like this, you want to pretend there aren’t. I guess.” The mattress dips as she turns over. “I don’t know.” 

“Do you miss New York?” He thinks he must be half asleep. This feels like a dream. Being warm in bed with someone, impossibly more so. 

“I miss having faith in people. But that’s not New York, that’s everywhere.” 

He can smell her hair again. He has the half-conscious thought that he might not wash the sheets after, though fully awake, he would have slapped himself for thinking it. 

“I lose faith in people a lot," she continues. "But you bring it back, Fred Andrews.” 

“Don’t.” He’s suddenly wide awake. “Don’t do that.” 

“Do what?” 

“Make me a hero.” He speaks softly, but his tone is hard as stone. “I watched them pull a seventeen year old out of the water and my first thought was ‘better Cliff Blossom than me’. That’s the kind of person I am.” 

“That doesn’t make you a bad person, Freddy.” He knows if he’d let her she’d smooth his hair back right now. He almost asks her to do it. “It just makes you human.”

He swallows without speaking, and yet she understands. “Go to sleep, Fred.” 

“You too.” 

“Ssh.” 

He sleeps then, and for the first time in a long time he doesn’t dream. 


End file.
